Master Flea - E. T. A. Hoffmann (thriller novels to read .txt) 📗

Immediately after this, an old merchant cried out to him, “My best greetings to you, worthy Mr. Tyss; see how I am forced to run and bustle, and plague myself with business. You have done wisely in withdrawing from it, though with your quick-sightedness you could not fail of doubling your father’s fortune.” The thoughts were thus: “If the fool would only meddle with business, he would speculate away his whole fortune in a short time, and that would be a real delight. His old papa, whose joy was in ruining other people that wished to help themselves by a little bankruptcy, would turn himself about in his grave.”

Many more such cutting contrasts between words and thoughts occurred to Peregrine. He always directed his answers rather by what people meant than by what they said, and, as he penetrated into their inmost intents, they themselves were puzzled what to think of him. At last he felt wearied, snapped his fingers, and immediately the glass vanished from the pupil of his left eye.

On returning to his house he was surprised by a strange spectacle. A man stood in the middle of the passage, looking steadfastly through a strangely-formed glass at Mr. Swammer’s door. Upon this door sun-bright circles played in rainbow colours, and then met in one fiery point, that seemed to pierce through the wood. As this took place a deep sighing was heard, broken by cries of pain, which came, as it appeared, from the room. To his horror, Peregrine fancied that he distinguished Gamaheh’s voice.

“What do you want? what are you doing here?” he exclaimed to the man, who really seemed to be practising diabolic arts, the rainbow circles growing with every moment quicker and brighter, the centre-point piercing more keenly, and the cries sounding more painfully from the chamber.

“Oh!” exclaimed the stranger, closing his glass, and hastily putting it into his pocket, “Oh! the landlord. Your pardon, my dear sir, that I am operating here without your permission; I did indeed pay you a visit to request it, but Alina told me you had gone out, and the business here would admit of no delay.”

“What business?” said Peregrine, pretty harshly; “what business is it that will admit of no delay?”

“Don’t you know,” replied the stranger with an odious grin, “don’t you know that my ill-advised niece, Dörtje Elverdink, has run away? You were arrested, though with great injustice, as her seducer, on which score I will with great pleasure testify your perfect innocence, if it should be requisite. It is not to you, but to Swammerdam, once my friend, and now my enemy, that the faithless Dörtje has fled. She is in that chamber⁠—I know it⁠—and alone, since Swammerdam has gone out. I cannot get in, as the door is barred and bolted, and I am too mild to employ force, but I have taken the liberty to torment her a little with my optical glass, that she may know I am her lord and master in spite of her imaginary princess-ship.”

“You are the devil!” exclaimed Peregrine, in the highest indignation, “You are the devil! but not lord and master of the beautiful Gamaheh. Out of my house! Practise your devil’s tricks where you will, but here you will fail with them, I can promise you.”

“Don’t put yourself in a passion,” replied Leeuwenhoek, “Don’t put yourself in a passion, my dear Mr. Tyss; I am an innocent man, who means nothing but good. It is a little monster, a little basilisk, that sits in yonder room, in the shape of a lovely woman. If the abode with my insignificance displeased her, she might have fled, but the traitress should not have robbed me of my most precious treasure, the best friend of my soul, without whom I am nothing. She should not have run away with Master Flea. You will not understand what I mean, worthy sir, but⁠—”

Here Master Flea, who had planted himself in a secure place, could not refrain from bursting out into a fine mocking laugh.

“Ha!” cried Leeuwenhoek, struck with a sudden terror, “ha! what was that? Can it be possible? Here, on this spot? Permit me, my dear sir⁠—”

Thus saying, Leeuwenhoek stretched out his hand, and snatched at Peregrine’s collar, who dexterously avoided his grasp, and, seizing him with a strong arm, dragged him towards the door, to fling him out without farther ado. But just as he had reached the door, it was opened from without, and in rushed George Pepusch, followed by Swammerdam.

No sooner did Leeuwenhoek perceive his enemy Swammerdam, than he burst from Peregrine with the utmost exertion of his last strength, and planted himself with his back against the door of the mysterious chamber, where the fair one was imprisoned. Swammerdam, seeing this, took a little telescope from his pocket, drew it out at full length, and fell upon his adversary, exclaiming, “Draw, scoundrel, if you have courage!”

Leeuwenhoek had quickly a similar instrument in his hand, drew it out as the other had done, and cried, “Come on; I am ready, and you shall soon feel my prowess.”

Each now put his glass to his eye, and fell furiously upon the other with sharp, murderous glances, now lengthening and now shortening his weapon by drawing the tubes in and out. There were feints, parries, thrusts, in short, all the tricks of the fencing-school, and with every moment they seemed to grow more angry. Whenever one was hit he cried out aloud, sprang into the air, cut the most wonderful capers, made the most beautiful entrechats, and turned pirouettes, as well as the best pas seul dancer on the Parisian stage, till his adversary fixed him fast with the shortened telescope. When the other was hit he did precisely the same, and in this way they went on interchangeably with the most violent springs, the maddest gestures, and the most furious cries. The perspiration dropped from their brows, the blood-red eyes seemed starting from their heads, and as there appeared no other